Diving Headlong Into a New World
by Autistically Gray
Summary: There were three things Lils knew absolutely, without a doubt: 1. She was weird, neurologically, but not extraordinary. 2. Her life was going nowhere. 3. Supernatural was a (highly entertaining) television series with sound lessons hidden in the angst. Nothing more, nothing less. Prev Chuck/Becky, eventual Chuck/OC (friendship first)
1. Chapter 1

**Before we get into the nitty gritty, I would like to remind everyone that i don't own Supernatural. If I did, Destiel would be canon because holy crap it would have already been if Cas had chosen a female vessel. Just calling out bull crap when I step in it…**

First, there was nothing.

Now you might be thinking of complete, unending darkness, but even that is something. Here, there was a complete absence of existence. There was no light to inspire anything, there was no darkness to fill the void.

There was just absolutely nothing.

Then, an idea broke through the emptiness. For just a flicker of a moment, something existed. And that something created the Darkness.

She (as she would later identify herself) was an all-consuming entity that spread blackness wherever she touched. She spread herself to all corners of the universe, filling the surprisingly limited infinity. And for a while, all that existed was Darkness.

Then, another flicker.

This idea manifested itself as God (or at least, that's what he called himself). God was a force of light that promised more things to come, and he was the one that first named the Darkness (for she only existed before, never giving thought as to who or what she was).

For eons, the Darkness and God existed alone, winding around each other as they filled what was once an endless void. Good called the Darkness "sister" and he was called "brother."

But while the Darkness was content with just existing with her sole companion, God felt a different calling, a calling to do more than exist for eternity.

God began to create.

The Darkness allowed it, for a time. The creations were small ideas, the concept of organized lights (stars) and their rotating rocks (planets). But soon, the creations became more complex and started to spread into what was once understood as her dominion.

God loved the Darkness and tried to share the fruits of his labor, his little worlds that seemed to be an extension of his own self, proof of just what he could do.

The Darkness devoured them all.

In moments, several millenniums of work were completely and utterly destroyed, leaving only Darkness behind. She didn't care that they were a part of God, that he had designed and constructed every aspect of each of those worlds down to the last atom. They were taking up God's attention, which should have been on her and only her. They only needed each other and their endless dance around the void.

But God could no longer dance. He could no longer just exist. His very self was about bringing new things into existence, and the Darkness refused to accept it.

And, for the very first time, God hated his most beloved.

God knew his sister and he knew that if his creations were to survive, she would have to be sealed away. In the deepest parts of himself, of his light, where the Darkness had the hardest time breaking through, he created four beings: Michael, Lucifer, Raphael, and Gabriel. They were made of his deep intent on sealing away the Darkness, and he called them archangels.

God and his archangels fought against the Darkness, for God's right to create. And while the Darkness was outnumbered, they were totally and evenly matched. However, the Darkness had started to develop a soft spot for the second-made, Lucifer. It seemed, whenever he fought, his heart wasn't in it all the way. The Darkness reached out to him and he seemed to respond...

… Right before he betrayed her.

It had been a trick, to distract the Darkness, and she soon found herself bound to a mark that suppressed her influence over the void. The mark was given to Lucifer, God's most beloved and the Darkness's most hated. And while she wanted to destroy God and his creations for what they had done to her, all she could do was wait.

As she waited, the void was now filled with God's light, and he used it start creating again. He created a home for his archangels, Heaven, and filled it with thousands upon thousands of angels, though none as powerful as the first four.

He filled the universe with galaxies and stars and suns and planets and moons and so many wondrous and terrible and beautiful things.

After having to seal away a particularly nasty species away in the realm of Purgatory, God decided to start working on his masterpiece on a small planet orbiting a somewhat mature sun. Unlike all the others, this work of art would not be led by his own purposes, but by their own. Free will, he called this concept. The species, he called mankind.

When they were constructed, they were presented before the angels and God declared mankind superior. He commanded that the angels submit to his new creation, and all except one did.

Lucifer, God's most beloved angel, had started to feel the influence of the mark on his soul. As soon as God had started working on these… things, the Darkness had started to fill him with the same hatred she felt.

Lucifer refused to bow and started a rebellion that would lead to his, and several angels', fall from heaven. God, fearful of the Darkness's rage and influence, sealed his beloved angel in the deepest bowels of Hell, a place called the Pit. There, Lucifer plotted revenge against his brothers, the humans, and, more importantly, his father. And it would be carried out many millenniums later, on that small blue planet.

But that's not all this story is about. No, this is just a small taste of what we must dive into, to help you understand how multiple worlds are about to collide.

Our story starts before. Before Lucifer's plot. Before the fall. Before the refusal. Before man. Before Purgatory. Before angels. Before the mark. Before the first war. Before the archangels. Before the destruction of the first worlds. Before God. Before the Darkness. Before even the void…

...There was a flicker of an idea. And that idea had a home. And that home was shared with _her._


	2. Chapter 2

**Once again, Supernatural isn't mine. If it was, crazy!Cas would have been around longer.**

Lillian Reynolds (or Lils, as her family called her) did not consider herself extraordinary, by any stretch of the imagination. She was quirky, maybe even borderline weird, but she never felt like she was impactful.

She worked a minimum wage job where she could be easily replaced and that forced her to act happy. Lils restocked, smiled, took orders, smiled, gave change, smiled, and wished all of her customers a nice day, with a smile.

And while she smiled, she felt nothing. No joy, no sadness, no anger, no boredom.

Just nothing.

She volunteered at the church her parents convinced her to attend and, while serving food to the neighborhood kids felt satisfying, it just didn't feel like it was enough. She was just one person out of six other volunteers, all of them older and knowing what the hell they were doing. It was just another place to serve and smile and fill the hours of her Tuesdays and Thursdays.

The only time Lils really felt anything was when she was alone, at home. She would exchange pleasantries with her parents (she rented her old bedroom, in order save up for a mortgage), occasionally eating dinner with them if she only had a half day at work, then locked herself away. She would plug in her phone, relax in bed, and throw herself into the world of fandoms.

To say she was a fangirl was a severe understatement. Lils lived for the moment she got on her phone, the moment when she exchanged monotony and mediocrity for grand adventures and something _more_.

Netflix was Lils home base, the source of her base fandom knowledge. She watched her shows and movies religiously, like they were a whole new gospel she had to study. At one point, she catalogued just how many fandoms she had obsessed over. She had merely shrugged when the number was only a little over 100.

Wikipedia was her fandom mother, explaining certain nuances of a series when it became too convoluted or she missed a detail or forty. "Thank God for Wiki," had become a nightly mantra.

Pinterest provided visual aids and hilarious memes, and provided gateways to alternate realities that answered the questions of "what if?" These two sites were like supportive older and younger siblings, both of them interchangeable with the amount of effort each artist put into their works.

Fandoms were fascinating, wondrous, terrifying, and chaotically beautiful. Fandoms were all the things Lils didn't have in her life.

And being part of fandoms made Lils feel like she had a second family. A family that didn't constantly ask her why she hadn't applied to the accounting job she didn't want or ask why she didn't ask out the nice guy at church she wasn't attracted to.

There was no face-to-face judgement. Trolls could be ignored. Whole paragraphs could be backspaced without anyone being any wiser. Lils could be weird and antisocial and be _accepted_ for the exact same reason _._

When Lils was online, she was at peace.

One particular fandom that reached out to her and clutched deep to her psyche was based around the television series _Supernatural._ She felt an undeniable love for Sam, Dean, and Cas (mostly Cas because she found way too many similarities between the two of them). She laughed with them, felt angry when they did, and actually cried when any of them were hurt (something she hadn't even done at her grandmother's funeral). They were like the children she knew she would never have and she would give anything for them to reach happiness.

And Lils found herself clinging to those boys, like their lives were the most important things ever. They may have been fictional, but they were her precious boys. Her life may not have been going anywhere, but she was going to support her boys through whatever damnation came their way.

It was on one of her binging nights (8 episodes) that she came to this realization. She put down her phone and clutched an angel banishing sigil pillow to her chest. She thumbed at the white cloth, the corners of her mouth twitching upwards into a bitter smile when she came across the red stitching.

She was merely existing, and not even doing a great job at that, but she could continue to exist if her boys were with her.

"I'm here for you, boys," she murmured as her eyes slipped closed. She was going to continue her cycle of existing. As long as she had her boys, she could live another day. She wouldn't give in, again.


	3. Chapter 3

**Supernatural is not mine. Dean would be wearing the "I wuv hugs" shirt every day, if that were the case. D'AWWWWW, mah babeh!**

 **Also, season 7, 10, & 11 spoilers. Yeeeeaaaaahhh...toodles!**

Chuck Shurley slumped over his keyboard, one hand cradling his aching head while another gripped a half-full glass of cheap whiskey.

Chuck was an artist, a writer if anyone wished to be specific. His very job, draining though it may be, revolved around creating a complex universe filled with intricate nuances and subplots within subplots of a plot.

It was made even more exhausting knowing that everything he wrote was real, not just confined to his and his fans' imaginations.

He hadn't been lying when he told the Winchesters that writing was hard.

He downed the whiskey, allowing himself the sensation of burning, so he could concentrate on that instead of the whole universe around him. Countless voices pressed all around him as his omniscience flooded him with visions of anything and everything all at once.

"One of the perks of being God," he mumbled sarcastically as he rubbed the stubble on his face. He had been taming his beard, while he was dating Becky, but had started to let it get shaggy when he called things off.

Honestly, though, he was surprised their relationship had lasted as long as it had. She was a sweet girl, buried beneath seventeen shades crazy, and it was actually nice to have someone around to take care of him, for a change.

But Chuck knew he wasn't Becky's. Not entirely. He was all about free will, don't get him wrong, but Becky was just completely obsessed over the books. Almost every conversation they had was about Supernatural or _my Sam,_ the latter always being mentioned with a dreamy, far-off look _._ Whenever he tried to change the subject, it would always come back to those two.

Plus, Becky seemed to misunderstand the role a prophet had. He had calmly explained that he merely wrote what he saw in his visions, but occasionally she would drop hints as to what he should write next, many of them cringe-worthy. While it was true he could manipulate the boys' futures, he wasn't about to start using those… ideas.

Chuck poured more whiskey, took a gulp, and the voices dulled.

He glanced at the screen, eyebrows furrowed as he read what had happened just a few days ago.

 _Castiel locked his gaze with Dean's, wanting to make sure that the latter would completely understand the words that he was about to say._

" _I am your new God," he said calmly, the souls of Purgatory rapidly swirling in his now dull eyes. Dean glanced towards Sam before Cas's voice caught his attention once more._

" _A better one. So you will bow down… and profess your love into me, your lord." He straightened with this, letting some of his newly acquired power leak out, in order to add weight to his next words._

" _Or I shall destroy you."_

It had been expected, given the circumstances Chuck had thrown Castiel's way. The souls of Purgatory were bound to have some influence on his personality. This, though…it was so unlike Cas, to threaten his family, to threaten Dean.

Chuck was actually disappointed in the angel.

He got up from his chair, deciding needed a break from the Winchester Gospel. Glass in hand, he started to make his way to the couch, not really sure how he would spend the rest of his evening. Maybe he would call that escort service again...

That's when it arrived.

"Shit!," he yelled as his house started shaking violently, almost like the time he let Rafael come to rescue "prophet-Chuck." However, the accompanying light had a much different energy to it. It was just as blindingly bright, but the age of it seemed different, older…

...Older than himself.

The light and shaking stopped moments after this revelation. In panic, he made a cursory check on all trouble points, namely Cain and Lucifer. The latter was a precaution.

Luci was still in the cage with Mike, so that was a relief. Those two could stand another couple of centuries in time-out for trying to start the apocalypse. The thought was more sad than angry, though, considering their reasons.

Cain, bless his damned soul, was still living in solitary. Chuck saw the Mark was still intact and sensed his sister's presence within its confines.

That ruled out the Darkness.

Instead of being relieved, the discovery panicked Chuck. As far he knew, there was nothing older than his sister. She had told him that before he came along, it had just been her spreading out in the vast Void.

Chuck reached out to the lingering traces of the energy.

At once, he felt like he had come home. He was the Creator, the one that made things exist, the great Father…

… And yet this tiny sliver of energy, fading fast, made him feel like he was meeting his parents for the first time. He had made himself families before, grown up with human parents and siblings, even had a few wives and a kid with one fling...but none of them felt as genuine as this. Felt quite like coming home.

The energy was gone now and Chuck reached out, desperate for the warm feeling to return. It was an entirely new feeling, and like a drug. In a last ditch effort, Chuck shut off the sound and sights of his universe to try and pinpoint anything new, some trace of home.

There was something. Alongside the Darkness, something he couldn't allow himself to block out, was the energy. He tried to grasp it, but it was everywhere and nowhere simultaneously. It was just like the Void, but something flickered within the center.

It felt like unending joy and inexplicable sadness.

It felt like unbridled victory and frustration at one's own failings.

It felt like endless possibilities and crushing doubt.

It felt like life and the overwhelming desire to end it.

It felt God-like, but all-too human.

Chuck tried to pinpoint it, and almost saw it compress itself into a lone figure. Before he could identify it, it pushed him back to his universe, back to his filthy living room, back to his lonely house-he couldn't call it home, anymore. It pushed him back with the desperation of someone who believed they deserved to be alone, even if they didn't want to be.

It reminded him of Dean, actually.

Dean wasn't really alone, though. Chuck made sure he had Sam, even if he wasn't whole. Dean also had friends that made up his broken little family.

This energy, though, was completely and utterly alone. Both in where it was and what it was. Even Chuck couldn't measure up to its raw power, its raw potential.

And Chuck would be dammed if he didn't find it and let it know that at least one sentient being in this universe felt like it mattered.


End file.
